


Sing My Praise

by Fitzcarraldo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 04:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12598720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzcarraldo/pseuds/Fitzcarraldo
Summary: Wear my halo when I’m gone, Morty.





	Sing My Praise

Framed by the sun, his white lab coat billowed around him like the robes of an angel, haloed by a swarm of white butterflies, Morty thought Rick looked like a spirit. He sat cross-legged in the grassy clearing; trees stood sentinel in a ring around the meadow, whispering to each other in the light breeze. Motes of dust made the air glitter.

Morty sat a few feet away as he braided the stems of flowers to make a crown for himself. He had already made one for Rick, who after some initial arguing, wore it with nobility. It was a sappy activity, but it occupied his hands, and he felt a communion with nature that urged him onward despite the insults that Rick had thrown his way earlier. He would never admit it to any school friends, but he had always wanted to wear a flower crown in a meadow and listen to birds gossip. Rick was living his dream right now. Soon, he would move next to him and feel very pretty, wreathed with flowers.

Rick insisted on a meditative excursion after their previous adventure had left them both injured and shaken up, and after that one incident, he refused to go to any more spa retreats. Morty accused him of having a sentimental streak underneath the icy exterior, but he fervently denied the accusation. But right now, Morty believed even harder that Rick was secretly a big softie. His eyes were closed, eyelids fluttering, and Morty stared with impunity at the upturned corners of Rick’s mouth. His flask sat in his lap but he did not drink. Rick wandered in some internal topiary maze and sank into nature further and further. It was a surprise that he didn’t completely fade away.

Morty’s eyelids began to close; he struggled to stay awake just so he could see his grandfather’s peaceful expression for a little longer.

They sat like statues, barely disturbing the air with their soft breaths. Morty noticed that the scene wasn’t so still and silent after all: bees rose and fell lazily from plant to plant, birds sang, and a fox tiptoed across the clearing. 

Morty gaped. It was the biggest fox he had ever seen, and it slunk with a low, rolling gate around the perimeter of the meadow. It stopped and deliberated, ears twitching, and it then crouched, stalking toward Rick. Morty and the fox shared a look; its golden eyes twinkled in a canid version of a smile.

Years of living on the run had sharpened his grandfather’s senses to preternatural levels, so he must have heard the air shift to accommodate the moving creature. Maybe like a deity, he just knew. The fox stopped again when they made eye contact. It still stood about a yard away, one paw hanging in the air. Like coaxing a dog with a lead, his eyes alone beckoned it forward, daring it to approach him.

It did, one slow footstep at a time, until they were a foot apart. Rick never moved. His shoulders rose and fell with his breathing, but that was it. Morty wouldn’t be surprised if Rick had some cybernetic enhancement that allowed him to telepathically communicate with animals like some drunk Disney princess.

Then the fox did the unthinkable, something not even Morty dared to do when they were on the couch watching TV: it curled up by Rick’s side, its brush pressed against his leg as if it had known this man its whole life. Maybe it did. Morty didn’t know what Rick did in his spare time. Maybe he always sat in this clearing when he needed to clear his head, and the animals just got used to him.

Nothing this man could do surprised Morty anymore. Why wouldn’t the universe’s smartest man also be supernaturally good with animals?

Rick went back to meditating, and Morty returned to work on his neglected flower crown.

The scene became more surreal as the minutes passed. Other animals materialized from the depths of the surrounding forest. Two does grazed at the perimeter of the open space, but they edged closer to the center in their search for succulent bits.

Morty finished his flower crown and set it on his head. By this time, the deer were halfway to Rick. With heavy, lidded eyes, Rick studied the deer from his spot in the center. Slowly, he plucked a pink flower from his head and extended it as an offering.

Like _The Creation of Adam_ , Rick breathed life into the animal that chewed a few yards away when he held out his arm, the flower resting in his upturned palm. Though it didn’t have visible pupils, it seemed to stare between the flower and his face. It wasn’t even chewing anymore. 

Was this the weirdest thing Morty had ever seen? Maybe, but only because his grandfather was so uncharacteristically gentle. Like some benevolent forest spirit instead of an old alcoholic with a mean streak.

The deer closest to him broke away from its companion, lured by the gift from this mysterious stranger. Morty, at this point, doubted that this was his actual grandfather. He’d probably left Rick in the ship where he slept away a hangover. This man, this Mr. Rogers lookalike with wilder hair, was not the man he had come here with.

The man who shot so many people dead without a second thought was now feeding a deer from his hand. It was the same hand that held weapons to commit an untold number of crimes.

_Life is strange_ , Morty thought, when first the one deer and then the other folded their legs under themselves and sat comfortably within a few inches of Rick.

Rick muttered something under his breath, some phrase for the animals’ ears only. He absently stroked the back of the fox who lay in a curled ball as he talked quietly to the deer like an old friend. Morty longed to hear what he said, but if he moved, the illusion would break, and everything would return to normal.

He wasn’t ready for it to be normal. Not yet. He burned the image of Rick’s happy face into his memory because he was certain he would never see it again.

At a word from Rick, the animals jumped up and disappeared back into the forest. Rick rose with a popping of joints and groaned as he stretched. 

“Alright, Morty, let’s get outta here.” The illusion was broken. God had descended from heaven to inhabit Rick’s body only to leave again.

They portaled home, still wearing their flower crowns. Summer, who was sprawled on the couch, snorted when she saw them. Without a word she turned her attention back to her phone. Their appearance said enough.

Rick gravitated toward the garage, and Morty ascended the stairs. 

When Morty looked in the mirror and turned his head this way and that, admiring the wildflowers on his head. He knew that today had been a good day.


End file.
